She Who Watches (34 page)

They parked in an official space near the senator's office and started in. “You want to take the lead on this guy, Dana?”

“You bet.”

Stokely smiled when he greeted them, but his eyes clearly indicated that he was not happy to see them. “Detective Bennett, McAllister. This is a surprise. You should have called. I'm afraid the senator is in meetings all day.” He looked smaller and thinner than Mac remembered.

“Actually, Grant,” Dana said, “we're here to see you.”

“Me? I'm afraid I don't understand.” His gaze darted from one to the other. “I thought you'd already caught the man who killed Sara.”

“The investigation is far from finished.” Dana moved forward, forcing him to take a step back. “Do you have a more private place where we can chat? Mac and I have a few questions for you.”

“S-sure.” He turned slightly and gestured toward the hallway. “My office is back here.”

He led them in the same direction as before, going just past the senator's office and into the room with the open door. Unlike the senator's overly tidy office, this one looked lived in. Stacks of paper covered the desk and tabletops as well as the one extra chair. “Um— sorry about the mess.” He grabbed a stack of papers off the chair. “You can sit in my chair, Detective McAllister. I'll get another chair from the office next door.”

“That's OK, Grant,” Mac said, taking notice of his uncharacteristic politeness. “I can stand.”

“All right.” Grant didn't like the idea, but he rolled his chair back slightly and sat down. “What can I do for you?”

Dana had pulled a pad and pen out of her briefcase. “You can start by telling us about your relationship with Sara Watson.”

“S-Sara . . .” A flush started at the base of his neck and worked its way up into his cheeks. “I didn't have a relationship with her. She was the senator's niece. I knew her. That's all.”

“I heard that you and Sara had a history—that she didn't like you, and you didn't like her.”

“Then you heard wrong. I knew Sara in high school. Claire, too, for that matter, but we ran in different circles.”

“You wanted to date her, and she rejected you.”

“Wait a minute.” He eyed them warily. “You think I had something to do with Sara's death?”

“Did you?” Dana kept her gaze steady on him. Mac crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

“No! Of course not.”

“But you do admit that you didn't like her, that she was a threat to your political career. What did she have on you, Grant?”

“She had nothing, because there was nothing.” He shook his head. “I don't know where you got this information, but it's a lie.”

“You're saying that there was not a problem between you?”

He sighed and licked his lips. “It's true that Sara and I didn't like each other, but I tolerated her and she tolerated me.”

“Why?”

“Why what? Why didn't she like me? I have no idea. I was beneath her, I guess.”

“Now see, Grant, that doesn't make much sense.” Dana inched closer. “You were class president and on the dean's list. Your parents have money—in fact, isn't it true that your father and the senator are friends? Your father helped you get this job, right?”

“So what? I do a good job.”

“A girl doesn't agree to date a guy and then turn around and hate that guy for no reason. What did you do, Grant? Did you do something to her that could land you in prison, maybe involving a date-rape drug?”

His flush turned scarlet. “This conversation is over.”

“I'LL HAVE TO START CALLING YOU BARRY,” Mac said to Dana as he pushed the elevator button to the first floor.

Dana looked at him as though he'd just sprouted horns. “Why?”

“Short for barracuda.” Mac chuckled. “Wow, you were smokin' in there.”

She sighed. “You think I was too hard on him?”

“Not at all. I'd say you gave him a lot to think about.”

“Mmm. Maybe, but we don't have anything on him other than Claire's suspicions.”

“Yeah. It would have given me great pleasure to have read him his rights.”

“So what do we do now?” Dana looked worried. “Think we should take our information to the senator?”

“Not yet. I'm for letting Grant sweat for a while.”

Minutes later, back in the car, the detectives called Kevin to tell them about their interview with Stokely. “We don't have anything concrete,” Mac told him. “Just the cousin saying she thinks he might have raped her. He denies there was a problem but agrees they weren't crazy about each other. It may indicate motive, especially if Sara confronted him. But why would she wait so long?”

“Let's leave him dangling for the moment,” Kevin said. “Sinnott's phone records don't show any calls to Stokely or the senator's office, but I have another possible lead. Sinnott made two calls to Scott Watson's business. There's no way to figure out who he talked to there, but the receptionist might remember.”

“Great. We'll head over there right away.” They were finally getting somewhere, and Mac had the feeling they might be closing in.

It was almost 4:00 p.m. when they pulled into the parking lot of the remodeled building near Montgomery Park where Watson, Simons, and Keller had their offices.

“How do you want to handle this?” Dana asked. “Unless I miss my guess, his secretary is going to be defensive if she thinks we suspect Scott.”

Mac pursed his lips. “You're right about that. Claire, his mother, his mother-in-law, his secretary. They're like mother hens where Scott is concerned. Makes you wonder. We want to be careful not to implicate Scott. You want to handle this one?”

“I think you should. She might respond better to a guy.”

Jackie's eyes widened when Mac and Dana walked into the suite. “You're the detectives who've been working on Sara's murder investigation.”

“Hi, Jackie.” Mac came forward, offering a smile that he hoped was friendly and nonthreatening.

She got to her feet. “Did you want to talk to Scott? He just got back in the office, but . . .”

“Actually, I was hoping to ask you a couple of questions.”

“Me?” She tilted her head to the side. “OK. I'm not sure I can help. Anyway, I thought you caught the guy who killed her.”

“We did.” Mac glanced around the reception area and nodded toward some chairs. “Jackie, do you mind if we talk over here?”

“Not at all.” She moved to the grouping he indicated, her features tense. The three of them sat down.

Mac opened his briefcase and brought out Sinnott's mug shots.

“Do you recognize this man? Ever seen him before?”

Her chest rose and fell as she focused on the pictures. “I don't think so.”

“Take your time, Jackie.”

She swallowed hard, on the verge of tears. “Is this the man who killed Sara?”

“We believe so, yes. We're trying to find a connection between him and Sara.”

She looked at the mug shots again and shuddered. “He was never here. I would have remembered. He's creepy looking, and all those tattoos. . . . You don't forget someone like that.”

Mac nodded and took the photos from her. “Does the name Owen Sinnott mean anything to you?”

“Sinnott.” Jackie moved her head from side to side, but she seemed unsure.

“We know he made at least two phone calls to this office. We were hoping you might remember who he talked to.”

“I don't. I'm sorry.”

“Scott told us the guy may have done some work for one of their contractors.”

She shrugged. “I wouldn't know about that. I don't usually have anything to do with them unless it's to deliver plans or messages or something.”

“Do you have a list of the contractors Scott and his partners may have used over the last couple of years?”

“I could get them for you, but I'd have to ask Scott if it's OK.” She glanced at her watch. “I can let him know you're here, and you can wait for him if you want. I'm leaving early today for a doctor's appointment.”

Mac nodded. “Sure. Go ahead.”

Jackie hurried over to her desk and picked up the phone, letting Scott know the detectives were waiting. “I hate to leave you like this, but I really need to get going.”

“Not a problem.”

Scott came out a few minutes later, and then he, Mac, and Dana spent the next forty minutes talking to his partners in the boardroom. Scott, who seemed to have eased off the attorney ultimatum from the last time they'd talked, had already spoken to his partners, and they shared the details of how Owen Sinnott came to be working on one of their projects. The men, both Scott's age, looked Ivy League, with dress shirts and ties. Except for the varying shades of hair and eyes, they looked like they'd been cast out of the same mold.

Patrick Simmons and Donovan Keller recognized Sinnott as one of the men the contractor on the last job had hired. “What a fiasco that was,” Donovan said. “We ended up firing the contractor and letting a bunch of his guys go. He wasn't very careful about who he hired.”

Scott nodded. “We weren't careful enough about checking him out.”

Patrick wove a black drawing pencil through his fingers. “That's right. The contractor ended up skipping town without paying his workers. We don't have anything to do with hiring or firing or paying anyone on the payroll except for the contractor. We had several of the men calling and wanting their money, and we couldn't pay it.”

“Was Sinnott one of those men, and do any of you remember talking to him?”

“Patrick and I did,” Scott said. “I don't know in what order. We both told him he'd have to go to the contractor.”

Mac glanced at his partner. Maybe Owen Sinnott had motive after all. “Did he seem angry, or did he threaten you in any way?”

“They were all angry, and I don't blame them, but . . .” Scott stopped. “Do you think he retaliated against us—me—by killing Sara?”

“That is a possibility.”

Scott stared out the window, tears gathering in his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If I'd had any idea, I would have written him a check.”

Patrick clasped Scott's shoulder. “We couldn't have known he'd retaliate.”

Donovan splayed his hands. “I had no idea—I mean, we thought the contractor was in big trouble, not us.”

MAC AND DANA HIT RUSH-HOUR TRAFFIC and didn't make it back to the office until nearly six. On the way, they filled Kevin in on their discussion with Scott and his partners.

“Good job. Are you satisfied with the findings?”

“Not really,” Dana said. “I'd still like to see Grant Stokely behind bars.”

Mac still struggled with the feeling that they were missing something. “I still don't know what to make of the Native American tie-in,” Mac said. “Maybe Sinnott knew about the clash between the senator and the Confederated Tribes and used it to throw us off.”

“That sounds plausible to me.”

“I suppose.”

“Go home and sleep on it. You can tackle your reports in the morning.”

“Good plan. See you in the morning.” Mac signed off. “Want to catch something to eat before we head home?”

Dana yawned. “I don't think so, but thanks anyway. I have a date with Jonathan if I get home at a decent hour, but I may even skip that and go to bed right after dinner. I'm beat.”

“Did that pervert call you again last night?” Mac asked.

“No, he didn't, but the whole police force must have been hanging around there last night. Did you call them?”

“I did. Hope you don't mind.”

“I don't. Thanks.”

“Are you seeing Kristen tonight?” Dana asked when they pulled into the lot.

“I was thinking about calling her.” And after saying good-bye to Dana, he did just that.

THIRTY-THREE

C
laire read the cryptic e-mail from Scott's office in a panic.
Meet me at the Washington Park Zoo at the trailhead to the Japanese Gardens at five. It's urgent. We need to talk. Scott

Why the Japanese Gardens? Why couldn't he talk to her here at home? Unless . . . Could the police be pressing him again? How could they suspect Scott? Couldn't they see that he was innocent? Apparently her call to put the spotlight on Grant had failed.

Claire felt bad about that. All those years ago, when Sara had come home from her date in a bad mood, she'd never said anything about Grant doing anything wrong. For all Claire knew, they had a personality clash.

She'd been grasping at straws and going mad with worry over Scott. She and Scott had finally acknowledged their love for one another. Maybe he wanted to surprise her with dinner out or something. Claire looked over at the sleeping child. Should she take Chloe and Allysa or get a sitter? A sitter, she decided. She called the next-door neighbor, who had sat for them before, and made the arrangements.

Claire's excitement grew, along with a sense of foreboding and fear. Anxiety.
What if Scott did hire Owen Sinnott to kill Sara? What if you're next?
The thought came unbidden and she pushed it aside.
Not possible
. She'd seen Scott's grief, his hopelessness and his tenderness with Chloe and Allysa and with her. Claire felt guilty for entertaining an idea too ridiculous for words.

Is it really all that bizarre?
The night before, when they'd talked about their relationship, Scott admitted to having a brief affair with Jackie before Sara found out she was pregnant. He said he felt he needed to tell her. He seemed genuinely tormented by his indiscretion. “It happened on a weekend,” he'd told her. “We'd gone on a business trip, and I needed Jackie there to handle the paperwork. We'd had too much to drink, and when I woke up the next morning, she was there.”

“Did Sara know?” Claire asked.